411-DEAN
by Swiss Blue
Summary: Sam and Jess have been dating for six months, and Sam has a problem that comes in the form of badgering roommates. Sam wants them to stay out of his private life with Jess, but without revealing his secret. So he does the one thing he can think of: call Dean. (Sam is asexual).


**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters contained herein. They belong to the owners of _Supernatural._

 **Rating:** T for subject matter sensitive for people 12 and younger.

 **Author's Note:** In my stories Sam is a sex-repulsed asexual, like me. No slash, no language, no worries. In this story Sam is 20 and Dean is 24.

411-DEAN

Sam and Jessica had been dating for almost six months. They were happy, school was going great, they had good friends. But Sam had a problem. His roommates were bugging him about his… private life with Jess. They didn't even ask if they had had sex yet, just came out and asked, "So, how is Jess in bed?" It was crude, and it was intrusive; Sam was surprised. Not as surprised as he could have been – he did grow-up with Dean for a brother after all – but his roommates, while they all got along ok, were not his friends. Sam and his roommates (he had three) all were cordial to each other, tried to keep their own sides decently clean, and occasionally had small talk; but they weren't close, especially not close enough to ask _that._ When Sam said he and Jess hadn't strayed into that territory, they harped on him, asking questions and making remarks that they really should not.

Sam had a secret, one he kept close at all costs, even from Dean. Especially from Dean. His secret was that he did not want to have sex, ever. He never had. He thought it was disgusting and invasive, and any time he saw those types of scenes in a movie he looked down at his lap and worked at keeping the grimace off his face. Sam also did not view people in a sexual way; people were just people, not objects for sex. Did Sam recognise a pretty body when he saw it? Of course, but he viewed it the same way he would a pretty face: it was simply beautiful, like a stunning, living piece of art. It did not mean he wanted to "touch" it. He hated when people talked about sex or anything that falls into the sexual category; sometimes he got nauseated about it. If fact, it took Sam 15 years before it dawned on him that people did not only have sex when they wanted children, but also because they like it, Dean was not "just an exception." Sam and Jess hadn't done any "bedroom" stuff; they hadn't even made out (passionate kisses and tongues and teeth) because Sam didn't like it. Not that Jess knew any of this, she just thought that Sam wanted to take things slowly. Sam hadn't told her yet because he wasn't yet sure that he would want to be with her forever, though he was getting close.

The badgering got worse the longer time drew on. Sam was partially fed-up and partially scared, because how did one get out of this without telling the truth? He decided that maybe if he knew the longest acceptable time limit before people were expected to have sex, it would buy him some time and his roommates would stop bothering him. To access this kind of sensitive information, Sam had one course of action: call Dean.

Sam hadn't talked to Dean since January, on Dean's birthday. The parting when Sam left for college, and his dad kicked him out, was rough. No-one parted on particularly good terms, but Sam had called Dean every year on his birthday to have a short conversation. It was an attempt to re-connect with his brother and mend their relationship a bit, and it worked. Dean now called him every year on Sam's birthday. But now Sam needed to call his older brother for a very different reason, and no matter how Sam phrased it, that reason was for advice. So when he got back from the dining hall one night, he locked himself in the hall bathroom for privacy and dialed on his cell phone.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Dean answered without looking at the number; he was pretty sure it was his dad.

'Hello?' he said as he drove his car down a little-known back road.

'Hey, Dean,' came the soft voice.

Dean felt his eyes widen. 'Sam? Is that you?' he asked.

'Yeah,' answered the same voice.

'Hey, Sam! How you doin'? Are you all right?' Dean had been brought up taking care of his brother, and he worried about the kid's safety sometimes (though he would never admit it), and he had never before gotten a call from Sam in October.

'Yeah, I just have a question is all,' Sam replied, now with nervousness lacing his voice. He paced around the bathroom while he talked. He could hear the engine in the background, so he knew it was a safe time to have this conversation.

'Oh yeah? What is it?' Dean asked, with his typical nonchalant, "cool guy" tone.

'It's about dating,' Sam said in an attempt to stall. It worked.

'Dating?! Sammy, do you have a girlfriend?' Dean asked with a now teasing voice.

 _Great._ Sam thought. 'Yeah.'

Dean chuckled a surprised and satisfied chuckle. 'Is she pretty?' he asked, almost conspiratorially.

'Yeah, she's pretty,' Sam answered, unable to keep the smile off his face and out of his voice. Dean noticed.

'Would I like her?' he continued in the same tone. It was important to Dean that he approve of his brother's girlfriend; he didn't want his little brother dating a shrew or someone who wouldn't treat him right. It was important to Sam too, though he would never admit it.

'Probably,' Sam answered, 'she's got a thing for classic mustangs.'

Now if there is one thing Dean loved, it was classic cars. He himself was the very proud owner of a 1967 black Chevy Impala. 'Pretty _and_ smart,' was his response. 'Marry her.'

'Dean,' came the slightly exasperated voice.

'All right, fine, _I'll_ marry her.'

'Dean!' Sam exclaimed, feeling rather annoyed. His brother loved to do this to him.

Dean chuckled. _Little brother-baiting is one of the great joys of life,_ he thought. 'What's your question, Sammy?'

Suddenly Sam was nervous again. 'We've been dating for about six months now,' he started, 'and my roommates have been bothering me about when we're going to… um… have sex,' Sam's voice dropped low on the last two words, but Dean heard them.

'Bothering you?' Dean asked, suddenly serious and getting ready to defend his brother, even though he was hundreds of miles away.

'Yeah. Jared started by asking how she was in bed, and I didn't think you even got to ask that kind of question if you weren't friends. I mean, we get along all right but we're certainly not friends. Then Jesse and Zack jumped in, asking when we were going to do it, did my girlfriend really like me, was I chicken, and that I need to show her what I'm,' Sam took a deep breath. This was hard for him but he was also getting this off his chest, 'made of. And I just want to know what's the longest couples are expected to go before they do that, so I can get them to lay off my back because it's really getting on my nerves.'

Dean had been growing increasingly angered throughout Sam's speech. Honestly, no-one (except _maybe_ close friends and family) should ask those questions, though people did anyway, but _absolutely no-one_ had the right to press for information or to say those kinds of things, friends or not. Dean recognised this phone call for what it was: his little brother being overwhelmed by jerks and needing some advice and support. He jumped into his answer with a serious, no-nonsense, big-brother tone.

'Sam, no-one has the right to say those kinds of things to you. That is private and you can keep it that way. People vary on when they decide to bang each other,' Dean's speech was crasser than Sam's, though Sam was glad he didn't say the word "sex." 'Some people don't wait at all, some wait a couple months, heck, some even wait six months to a year before they're ready. Don't let any dirtbags push you into that. You've got nothing to prove to them. And listen to me: if your girlfriend decides to start pressuring you, dump her. If you're not ready, you wait. You take all the sweet time you need.'

Sam listened closely and silently. He nodded, even though his brother couldn't see him. He felt some relief at Dean's words. He could wait, they could shut-up, his big brother said so. 'Ok, Dean,' he said, but his voice was still subdued. Dean knew what more his little brother needed.

'Look, Sam, you tell those morons to mind their own business and stay out of your private life. If they don't, you kick their butts; better yet, call me and I'll come kick their butts. You don't owe them any explanation. And if they talk smack about you, you stand up for yourself. If you respect yourself, others will too, and if they don't, I'll come take care of them.'

Sam laughed softly. 'That won't be necessary, Dean,' he said. And Dean grinned; he could hear the relief and confidence in his little brother's voice, and knew he was encouraged and ready to take action. 'Thanks, Dean,' Sam continued. Then his voice softened, 'It means a lot.'

They were now straying dangerously close to chick-flick territory, a land that Dean ever dreaded. But Dean smiled a little anyway, because he knew Sam was grateful, and it felt good to be needed, even though the kid he had helped raise was in college… at Standford, to become a lawyer of all things. Jeez. 'You're welcome, Sammy,' Dean said, "cool guy" tone back, 'now get out there and show them who's boss.'

Sam chuckled. 'Ok. Stay safe, Dean.'

'I always do,' Dean said too carelessly.

'I mean it, Dean.' And Sam did. His brother off fighting monsters and other dangerous things that went bump in the night worried him.

'Ok, Sammy,' Dean said a little more seriously, 'You too.'

'Will do. Bye, Dean.'

'See ya, Sam.' And with that he hung up the phone.

Sam stepped out of the bathroom with determination and confidence in his eyes. He didn't have to take inappropriate talk and questions from his roommates, he could stand up to them without revealing his secret and tell them to back off. He also felt better inside having talked to his brother; some homesickness inside him eased, though since Sam hadn't had a proper home since he was six months-old perhaps the correct term was "brother-sickness."

Dean had a satisfied smile on his face as he followed his dad – who was in his truck – around a turn. It felt good to talk to Sam, and the loneliness inside him relaxed its hold. Dean felt needed and helpful. _Still need me, Sammy,_ he thought. And it was true.

The End.

I don't endorse "kicking someone's butt" literally, but what else would Dean say?

I hope you enjoyed it! Please do leave a review. I beta'd this myself, so please point out in your comments grammar errors and any thing that doesn't make sense. I plan on writing more stories. Feel free to prompt me through comments or PM. :) ~Swiss Blue


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